


Because I Said So

by medusacascade22



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, M/M, weird magic shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusacascade22/pseuds/medusacascade22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tazer's word becomes law and Kaner doesn't have a problem with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I Said So

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated and encouraged!

 

Jonathan Toews is used to people doing what he says because he’s the fucking captain of the Blackhawks, and a damn good one at that, if their season record and recent Stanley Cup win is anything to judge by.

Jonny likes to think he’s pretty polite, because he tries to be, and wants to make Mama Toews proud, so it’s rare that he orders anyone around off-ice. But when he does, nothing really spectacular happens, people either listen or they don’t, and Jonny doesn’t really pay attention, because who would?

But then there’s this crazy night that involved way too much alcohol and a bar in the part of town where you lock your car three times just to make sure and maybe Jonny blacked out for part of it but ended up in his own bed somehow, and woke up covered in weird sparkly dust shit that Jonny refused to believe was glitter.

He’d texted the guys he was out with to see what the fuck happened the night before, but no one seemed to have much information, so he’d shrugged it off and gotten in the shower because really who the fuck even cared as long as no one got murdered. It wasn’t until the next day that shit got weird.

Jonny was at a cafe with Sharpy getting lunch after practice. It was a new place that Sharpy dragged him to, not one of the usual spots. Jonny wasn’t too keen on the idea, being an extreme creature of habit, but Sharpy wasn’t going to shut up until someone went with him, so Jonny gave up and went.

The food was pretty dry, so half-way through the meal, Jonny’s glass was empty. When the waitress looped by their table to take some dirty plates away and asked if they needed anything, Jonny said, “Yeah, grab me a Coke.”

The waitress kind of twitched and was instantly gone, not that Jonny even noticed, as he was entranced in his sandwich. The girl returned about ten minutes later and set a filled glass by Jonny’s plate. He nodded in thanks. He went to take a sip, only to see Sharpy staring at him like he had suddenly turned into a porcupine.

“What?” Jonny asked. He swiped his tongue across his teeth in case there was something lodged in there, even though he knew Sharpy was more likely to doom him to walk around with lettuce wedged between his teeth than to tell him.

“Dude… she just brought you a Coke.” Sharpy said in obvious disbelief.

“Yeah, and?”

“And they have Pepsi here.” Sharpy explained like it was common knowledge that Jonny should’ve been aware of.

Jonny wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, that was kind of odd, but was it really that big of a deal?

“It tastes fine,” Jonny shrugged.  Sharpy refused to accept this, and flagged the girl down when she came around next.

“Excuse me, but doesn’t this restaurant only have Pepsi products?” Sharpy asked with a grin that Jonny could only roll his eyes at, but the girl batted her eyelashes like an idiot, so maybe she wasn’t so immune to Sharpy’s charm.

“Yes sir, that’s correct.” She said.

“And you just gave my friend here a Coke?”  Sharpy asked, gesturing in case she didn’t know exactly who Sharpy was talking about. Jonny thought he just looked dumb.

“Yes sir, I did.” Her eyebrows pulled together like she didn’t quite understand her response. “I went to the shop next door and bought a bottle.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but may I ask why?” Sharpy said, his grin only widening in an attempt to make her more comfortable.

“I… I don’t know…” She stammered. “I guess… we all try to make sure the guest has the best experience possible!” She recovered shakily, running her palms down her apron and giggling nervously.

“Alright, thanks so much, darling.” Sharpy smiled and she quickly departed. Sharpy leaned back in his seat, shooting a “and now what do you make of that” look to Jonny.

“See?” Sharpy asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” Jonny shook his head.

“That was weird!” Sharpy pointed out. “She did exactly what you said!”

“I’m Jonathan Toews. People like me. Sometimes, they do things for me. I don’t ask questions.”

“I dunno, Jonny.” Sharpy sighed but returned to his food. “It’s fucking weird. Like she couldn’t even help it, the way she walked out the door. Like the power of God compelled her or some shit.”

Jonny responded by tossing a balled-up straw wrapper at his dumb face and didn’t touch the Coke for the rest of the meal.

 

After that, it’s weird little things that Jonny wouldn’t usually notice but can’t help to after the waitress.

Jonny tells Kaner to shut up in the locker room when he won’t quit bragging about an honestly flukey goal and he doesn’t speak for about an hour, which is practically a medical emergency.

Jonny tells a cab driver his address and the guy takes him there without asking for payment up front.

Jonny tells Seabs to come over at eight, knowing his lateness will make it nine, but he shows up at Jonny’s doorstep the exact moment the clock strikes eight.

Jonny tells Q to make practice the next morning an hour earlier and he does without question, even though it’s really inconvenient.

Jonny is starting to think this is fucking weird.

Pat comes over the next off day for NHL 12 and beer, and even his barbaric sensitivities can tell something is up with Jonny.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man!?” Pat says after Jonny has lost so terribly that Pat doesn’t feel right gloating about it. He tosses the controller at Jonny, who manages quick enough reflexes to bat it away from his face and onto the couch so it couldn’t do any real damage.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Jonny waves him off and goes to start a new game.

“Fuck you,” Pat says and switches off the TV. He sits down next to Jonny and stares at the side of his face until Jonny reluctantly turns to meet his gaze. “Seriously though, what is it? You’ve been weird for days now.”

Jonny sighs and wipes a hand over his face. “It’s just,” he starts. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Aww, tell Patty-cake all your problems,” Pat coos, but he means it, and Jonny knows that. Jonny knows that he can tell Pat anything, he just doesn’t know how to start. He takes a steadying breath and thinks through his words.

“It’s like, people do whatever I say.” Jonny says, breath coming out all in a rush.

“I don’t see the issue here.” Pat laughs. Jonny whacks his shoulder.

“I’m serious! Like they can’t help it! My word is the fucking law or something,”

“You’re off your rocker, Tazer,” Pat tells him, shaking his head.

 “Nevermind, I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Jonny huffs and crosses his arms across his chest. He feels like a moping little kid but he can’t help it. He hates confusion and he hates people not taking him seriously even more.

“I’d understand if you were making any sense,” Pat defended himself.

“I didn’t fucking ask for this, Pat!” Jonny can’t help but yell. He doesn’t mean to take his aggression out on Pat, but it pours out of him faster than he can stop. “I didn’t fucking ask to not know what the fuck is going on with me! People just _do_ what I say, even when I don’t mean them to!”

“Like Ella Enchanted?” Pat holds in a laugh when he sees the pained look Jonny shoots him. “Okay, okay, I’m taking you seriously, I promise. Can you give me an example?”

“When I told you to shut up, and you did.” Jonny says.

“Oh yeah,” Pat says, remembering. “That was kinda weird.”

“See!?” Jonny bounces up in excitement. “You did it and you don’t know why! It’s because you had to listen to me!”

“Nah,” Pat shakes his head. “I must’ve… I must’ve been tired or something. Impossible.”

“You stubborn ass bastard,” Jonny growls, his frustration building.

“What? There’s no fucking way that you’ve got some crazy power that makes people do whatever you tell them to. No fucking way.” Pat insists.

“Do you need some fucking proof!?” Jonny says. His eyes are wild and Pat thinks he should probably by afraid but is just excited instead.

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

“Alright then. Suck my dick.” Jonny says simply.

Before Jonny can even think, Pat is between his knees and tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

“The fuck,” Jonny stammers. He finds his limbs paralyzed.

“You… you told me to…” Pat says. His fingers twist hesitantly in the fabric and he bites his lip. He looks into Jonny’s eyes, scared and excited and dark.

“Yeah, but fuck,” Jonny tries to breathe like a normal human, but that’s kind of difficult in the current situation. “I kind of didn’t think it’d actually work,”

“Well now I fucking need to suck you off, so either command me not to, or let me take your fucking pants off.” Pat says and Jonny can’t manage to form a proper sentence so Pat takes that as permission and tugs Jonny’s shorts down.

“You don’t… you don’t have to…” Jonny manages to say, voice shaking, because fuck, he wants this more than he expected to.

“I know I don’t, but somehow I really fucking want to, so just let me do this, okay?” Pat’s tone goes soft at the end and Jonny stops fighting, and lets Pat curl his hand into his boxers and gasps embarrassingly loud when skin meets skin.

Jonny’s not hard or anything, it’s not like there’s been any foreplay for this, but Pat strokes him slowly and soon he’s there. He helps Pat get his boxers off, and once they’re thrown across the room, Pat leans down to twirl his tongue around the head.

“Fuck, Kaner,” Jonny practically moans. Pat taps his thigh in response and lowers his mouth over Jonny’s cock, grasping the base. Jonny makes some kind of noise he can’t seem to regret and lets his eyes fall closed as Pat’s mouth constricts around him.

Pat bobs and sucks and tongues and all Jonny can do it moan and clutch at Pat’s curls and vaguely wonder why Pat is so good at this, but the thought doesn’t stay long, because then Pat is reaching down to mess with his balls or something, and Jonny can hardly take it anymore.

“Pat, I’m gonna…” Jonny tugs at Pat’s hair, expecting him to pull off, but Pat remains latched onto Jonny’s dick, sucking constantly.

Jonny comes even though it’s only been a few minutes because fuck, Pat is fucking good at this, and so what, it’s been a while. Pat swallows it like a champ, finally pulling off and returning to his seat on the couch.

“Told you,” Jonny pants, fumbling to pull his shorts up.

“Oh, Tazer,” Pat smiles and shakes his head fondly. “I would’ve done that without some weird new commanding power.”

Pat claps Jonny’s knee and wanders off into the kitchen, leaving Jonny to sit alone and make confused indeterminable noises into the air.

“Wait,” Jonny yells after him. “You mean we could’ve been doing that for years!?”

“Yes, that is what I mean.” Pat says, leaning against the doorframe and smiling like the bastard that he is.

“Fuck you!” Jonny screams without thinking.

“Okay.”

 

 

~fin

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first non-Capitals hockey fic!


End file.
